


It'll All Make Sense In Time | A Frerard Fic

by lightstothepavement



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-05-28 19:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightstothepavement/pseuds/lightstothepavement
Summary: Gerard Way has dreams of becoming a comic book artist. With his first footsteps into adulthood, he finds himself moving into a house with three other guys. His new roommates, Bob, Ray, and Frank, come to find themselves an indispensable to Gerard everyday life.From their first meeting, Gerard and Frank are off to a rough start. But only time will tell if the bonds between them will grow, for the better or the worse.A story set between chunks of times in the lives of our beloved boys, we follow their lives from the small mundane beginnings to growing and becoming so much more.*This is a M/M and M/F storyline in a non-canonical fashion. This story will deal with the intricacies of sexuality, friendship, and alcohol/drug abuse.**Please note that this is a work of fiction. Characters are works of fiction based on the band My Chemical Romance. I do not own the rights to My Chemical Romance, any of the members or any of their songs or other content.





	1. Reply to a Shitty Craigslist Ad

When I first decided to leave New Jersey, I didn't expect to leave one shit home for another.

The town I moved to was close enough that getting to the city wasn’t a pain, but was still affordable…enough. I was broke, but I had enough cash to rent a room in a house, and a promise of a part-time job working the graveyard shift stocking groceries at the town’s only market.

It didn’t take long for me to decide on the town I did. I needed to get closer to the city in the hopes that I could land a job as a comic book artist. It was a dream and a good part of me believed it was impossible. But I shrugged off the doubt and gave myself the chance at having at least a chance.

I choose the town I did due to a Craigslist ad of a room for rent. The ad only had two pictures, and in truth, the room didn’t look like much.

Four white walls in a pixelated photo.

The second photo was what got me.

The second photo was of what I had believed to be the living room. In the photo, the middle of the room sits a drum set. Behind it a blond guy with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Beside him stands a guy with brown curls like a lion’s mane, a grin as he tips the beer in his hands towards the photographer. There are a few other people in this picture, it must have been at some party, but the feeling of the picture just hits me.

I wanted to be there. I wanted to be one of them.

I’d spent all of my life living with my family back home in Belleville.

It wasn’t bad. But it wasn’t great.

I lived in a dark basement shared with my younger brother in our mother’s house. It was fine.

Coffee was always made and comic books were always around to share.

But creatively? It was stifling. It was always more of the same.

It pissed me off sometimes, thinking about all the hours I had wasted just sitting in that basement watching old horror movies on VHS.

I needed something more.

I need something to make me feel like I was a real person again.

I needed a reason to create.

So I decided to move.

I wanted to live in this house, with this drummer, with this grinning guy, with all these people looking so happy in a living room with faded floral wallpaper.

When I left I packed all my things in my car and drove alone.

I told my younger brother, Mikey that he could visit me soon, but going there was something I needed to do alone.

I had only met the guy whose name was on the lease once.

His name was Bob, and from what I understood, he was a drummer in his spare time. He had lived in that house for a few years and the roommate situation had been a revolving door of dudes he vaguely knew from the music scene. He was looking to fill the space with some new roommates who were a little more reliable... I knew by that he meant that he wanted roommates that would actually pay their bills.

He told me his buddy, Ray, had just moved in not too long ago.

There were some others who had come and gone, but he was looking to fill two of the rooms in the house.

One was for me, another for some else who had responded to the same Craigslist ad I had.

I pulled up to the house at night. The sun had set an hour or two before.

I could tell from the darkness the house was pretty run down outside. Dirt caked on the white siding. The front yard unkept. I didn’t care though.

I climbed the rickety stairs to the porch, pulled open the screenless screen door and knocked on the front door.

The door flew open to the bright grin of the man with the mane of curls I had remembered from the photo.

“Hey!” Even his eyes smiled. “I’m Ray! You must be Gerard?”

He shoved his hand forward and I looked at it confused.

“Yeah,” I perked my eyebrow quizzically. “Gerard,”I confirmed.

I shook his hand feeling like it was an utterly foreign gesture.

I wasn’t used to most guys initiating physical contact. You didn’t shake hands when you met someone. You nodded your head and grunted your name and went on with your day. Handshakes were for graduation and job interviews.

As soon as my hand touched his, the smiling man- Ray- pulled me forward into a hug.

I stiffed up and he let go. His face didn’t fall, though.

“Oh!” He exclaimed. “I’m sorry, I’m just a touchy-feely kind of guy! I don't even know you yet!” He laughed.

“It’s okay,” I shrugged, still unsure how to navigate this new person.

I still had yet to step inside of the house.

“Which one is it?” I heard a voice grumble from behind the door.

Ray moved to look at the speaker and the face of the drummer appeared.

“It’s me,” I replied as he looked past the shield of curls, to the doorway where I stood.

I felt relief seeing Bob there.

Even though we had only met once, he was the kind of guy I immediately got along with. Sarcastic and blunt, this wasn’t the kind of guy that had any tricks up his sleeve. All his tricks were laid out there for you, plain as day. That’s the kind of person I liked.

“Cool,” He nodded as he recognized my face. “C’mon in, I’ll show you your room.”

I entered the house and followed the two men up the stairs that groaned under the weight of three grown men on top of them.

I heaved my duffle bag over my shoulder, partially glad I had left most of my belongings at my mom’s.

“This is it,” Bob announced, shoving open a shabby door made of particle board. I wondered what happened to the original one, but didn’t have the time to ask before Ray interrupted my thoughts.

“It’s connected to the bathroom!” Ray pointed over to a door inside the room.

“Cool,” I nodded, realizing I hadn't said a single thing since I entered the house.

I took in the room.

The walls clearly were once white but had been faded from dust and grime. The hardwood floors buckled in some places, other boards no longer ran completely parallel. Years of the house shifting and settling caused the house to seem almost leaning.

A mattress laid in the middle of the room, next to it a large old desk with a chair that looked like it had been taken from an elementary school. But despite the appearance, I could feel myself grin.

Because this place was all mine.

I could close the door and draw for hours without anyone interrupting.

There was a window to peer out of and hundred of trees outside of it. I could feel all the inspiration that would flow in from that view. I was ready to take it all in.

“It’s great!” I exclaimed, finally cracking a smile of my own. “I’m gonna go ahead a crash for a bit, if you guys don’t mind, I had a pretty rough drive.”

“Say no more,” Ray nodded in understanding. “If you need anything, let us know. If you want any food, I’ll be making some stuff later. Just come on down.”

“Don’t eat any of my food,” Bob pointed at me, before exiting the room.

Ray gave one last smile and ducked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

For the first time in a long time, I was left completely alone in quiet.

Unpacking wasn’t much for me. I dumped out my clothes onto the floor of the closet missing its doors.

I carefully placed my sketchbook and art supplies on the desk, lining them up next to a small stack of my most treasured comic books I kept with me.

After I emptied out my bag, I flung myself onto the mattress on the floor.

It’s springs groaned at my weight and I had to contort my body to fit into the strange lumps and valleys of it, but despite my body’s discomfort, I drifted off to sleep before I knew it.

 

I awoke hours later, my clothes soaked with sweat.

The room was hot and dark.

The only lights were the far away street lights outside. It was night and it was quiet.

I lifted my heavy body off the mattress and tore my damp clothing off. It was still too hot. I lifted open the old window, letting in the fresh, cold, night air.

That was a little better.

I stood in front of the window for a bit and then finally decided to take a shower.

I couldn’t care less of how I smelled, but the heat got to me.

I decided to open the door to the bathroom Ray had pointed out earlier. I flipped on the light, which was dim and yellow, and the fan came roaring alive. Inconsistent and sounding like a banshee, I grimaced.

Then I hear a groan that didn’t belong to me or the fan.

I approached the bathtub with caution, I had seen way too many horror movies for this. I just wanted to take a shower, not get brutally murdered.

I pulled back the mildew covered shower curtain and was met with a body.

_Fuck!_ I panicked. _Is he dead?!_

I looked closer to the body, a small man covered in tattoos, and found his chest rising and falling.

His eyelids fluttered a bit and then I was met with the gaze of big hazels eyes.

“G’morning,” the man fully clothed and previously unconscious in the bathtub nodded at me. “I’m Frank.”

He held out his hand for a shake and I just stared.

Who was this guy? And why was _he_ in _my_ bathtub?

The moment of silence broke as Frank retracted his hand and his eyes shifted over my body.

I immediately tensed up.

Here I stood completely naked in front of a stranger.

...In my bathroom.

“Sorry!” I gasped as I grabbed the towel haphazardly hung on a hook next to the shower.

I covered myself, but the heat still spread across my face. I could feel the red blush break out on my ghostly pale skin.

“Oh, no, my bad!” Frank laughed, pulling himself up to his feet and stepping out of the bathtub. “Ray mentioned that someone else shares this bathroom with me. But when we knocked on your door earlier to see if you wanted to come out to the bar with us, you didn’t respond, so we guessed you had gone out already.”

“You live here?” I frowned.

“Yeah!” Frank grinned. “In the room right across the hall!”

“Oh,” I glanced at the other door, cracked open to the dark hallway.

I sighed, of course the other new guy would be the one to annoy me.

“Why are you sleeping in here?”

“Best place to sleep when you’re drunk!” He laughed, eyes twinkling.

He had too much energy for someone who just woke up from a drunken nap in the bathtub.

“Could you get out?” I blurted out, done with awkwardly interacting while I stood with only a towel covering my lower body.

“Oh shit!” he laughed. “Yeah, sorry, you probably want to shower or whatever! I’ll leave you to it!”

He stepped for the door and then turned around, “What’s your name again?”

“Gerard,” I glared, just wanting him to leave.

“Gerard,” he repeated. “Cool. Rad. I’ll try to remember that!”

With that he slammed the door shut and I was left alone, just me, the loud fan, and the towel I was now realizing was not mine.


	2. Little Brother Calling

 

He was loud.

The small, tattooed ball of energy that lived across the hall was LOUD.

I sat down at my desk trying to scribble out some sketches for something, but all I hear was Frank picking at his guitar in the other room. He wasn’t bad, but only one person can take someone practicing all day, every day for so long.

I snarled as I drew myself up from my desk and slammed open my door to march across the hall to Frank’s door.

My fist rapped against the wood of the door and the guitar suddenly screeched to a stop.

The door swung open and Frank’s face peered up at mine, looking genuinely confused.

“Was I being too loud again?” he asked innocently.

“Do you ever stop?” I huffed.

“How would I get better if I did?” he laughed. My chest tightened. Even though he wasn’t laughing at me, it still pissed me off. How could this guy just be so positive all the time?

“Could you just knock it off for like an hour or so?” I hissed.

We’d been living here for a few weeks and I had yet to get even one page of my comic done. My head was always filled with Frank’s guitar and I couldn’t stand it.

“Oh, okay, yeah, sure,” he shrugged. “Sorry about that, man.” Frank patted me on the shoulder as if we were friends.

I flinched at his touch.

I wasn’t expecting his hands to be soft. The rough calluses of his fingertips tickled my skin. I jumped back.

“Yeah,” I turned back to stomped back to my room but stopped at the sound of Frank’s voice.

“You really hate me, don’t you?” His voice wasn’t judgmental, just curious.

I didn’t turn around.

 

The rest of the night, the house was quiet. Well, mostly quiet. No Frank playing guitar. Just the dull murmur of the rest of my roommates downstairs, the tv playing.

I stared down at the paper in front of me.

I couldn’t seem to draw anything good. Everything looked lackluster and stood too still. No action, no life. I sighed.

Maybe I just needed to get out of the house.

I grabbed my crumpled up sweatshirt from the floor and pulled in on. Pushed my greasy hair behind my ears and flicked off the light on my desk.

I needed to go get a drink.

I stumbled downstairs, trying to not make noise and failing miserably. I had planned to slip out of the house unnoticed, but instead, my footsteps loudly announced my arrival. I glanced towards the couch and there sat Bob and Ray peering at me, amused.

“Heading out?” Ray smiled.

“Yeah,” I coughed. “I was just gonna go grab a drink.”

“Great,” Bob smirked as he gulped down the last of the beer in his hand. “I just finished mine. We’lljoin you.”

Before I could protest, both men stood up, grabbing their jackets and keys and following me out.

I hadn't spent much time with my roommates.

We were generally friendly, but I wouldn’t call us friends. They tended to hang out in the living room with Frank, so I usually avoided the group of them. They were all tight knit already, and I felt like an outsider. I just kept to myself as I came in and out of the house, with few conversations while waiting in the kitchen for my microwave food to be down so I could disappear back to my room alone.

Now the three of us walked down to the bar at the end of our neighborhood in silence.

Bob flung open the heavy door to the little dive bar and was greeted by the drunken hellos of guys he knew. Bob nodded at them and then continued his way to a booth in the back, sliding in as if he was home.

Ray and I followed his lead, settling ourselvinto to the squeaky faux leather seats.

Bob nodded at a waitress who looked like she’s been working at the bar her whole life. She disappeared into the back then reappeared with a round of beer and some fries.

“Nice to see some new faces around here,” she smiled at Ray and me. Ray smiled back and I averted my eyes from her red covered lips down to the beer in front of me.

After our waitress left, Bob looked over at me and smiled through the handful of fries he had just shoved in his mouth. “So Gerard,” he muttered as he swallowed. “What’s your deal?”

“Huh?” I asked, surprised.

“What’s your deal?” Bob repeated, furrowing his eyebrows. He studied me, waiting for an answer, but his eyes were not full of anger or hate. Just interest. “What are you always doing, caved up in that room of yours?”

“Yeah,” Ray chimed in. “Why don’t you ever hang out with us?”

“Oh,” I found myself blushing. I didn't realize they had noticed. “I’ve just been working on my art.”

“Art? You’re an artist?” Ray’s eyes sparkled with interested. “What do you draw? Or paint? Or whatever?”

“Draw,” I nodded. “Comics, mostly.”

“Dude!” Ray laughed, looking excitedly between Bob and myself. “I love comics! Do you wanna work for like DC or Marvel?”

“Yeah,” I cracked a smile. “Or I guess, I should say maybe. If I could create my own stuff, that’d be pretty cool too.”

“Ah,” Bob smiled. “The artist. No wonder why you’re such a fucking weirdo.”

“Bob!” Ray gasped as I broke out into laughter. Bob smiled.

“I didn’t say being a weirdo was bad,” Bob shrugged. “But c’mon, we don't know shit about this kid and he fucking lives with us. Mysterious artist isn’t just a stereotype.”

“Called ‘em as you see ‘em,” I smiled. Bob nodded.

“And if I recall, you like horror movies too?” Bob asked.

“Mmhmm,” I took a drink of my lukewarm beer. It was gross, but for the first time since moving, I felt good. I didn’t even mind if the beer was bad.

“Then why don’t you ever come downstairs to watch them with us?” Ray nudged me.

“Uh,” I quickly drank another large gulp so I didn’t have to answer.

I couldn’t exactly tell them that I thought their friend was annoying as hell, and that’s why I never wanted to hang out.

“He hates Frank,” Bob said bluntly. Ray’s eyes widened.

“No one hates Frank!” Ray exclaimed. “That kid is like, the nicest! And he’s a total nerd too, man! How can you hate him?”

“I didn’t say I hate him!” I stumbled across my words, feeling myself blush. My mind rushed for an excuse, but the alcohol starting to make my thoughts foggy and slow.

“I’d hate ‘im if I didn't know ‘im,” Bob shrugged. “He’s a good guy once you get to know him though.”

I was quiet. I didn't know what to say. I didn’t want to think about Frank anymore. He was loud and annoying and way too nice, and I already decided I didn’t like him. I didn't want to talk about him anymore.

“S-so, what are you guys into?” I blurted out, abruptly changing the subject.

“Bob is a badass drummer!” Ray grinned, slapping his friend on the shoulder.

Ray carried on about music, showering Bob with compliments. I was just glad I had successfully navigated the conversation away from Frank. It was nice getting to know my roommates.

I felt that warm feeling in my chest that I hadn't felt since the day I moved in. I felt inspired again. I felt like this was right where I was supposed to be, and maybe, these guys would even turn into good friends.

Friends were something I was never good at, but had always wanted. I didn’t want to be like a lone super hero for the rest of my life, and without my kid brother at my side, I had started feeling like that’s what I’d always be.

But sitting there with Ray and Bob, drinking shitty beer in a dark shitty bar, it kind of felt like how a super hero team is formed. Each with their own powers, but equals…or maybe I was just starting to get drunker than I realized. Because no matter how shitty the beer, once you hit five or six, you can’t help but have it affect you.

 

 

“So you’re driving out here tomorrow right?” I grinned into the phone’s receiver.

“No,” the phone crackled. “I’m leaving today since I got scheduled to come in to work on Monday, so I thought it’d be okay to just shifted the plans. Is that okay?”

“Of course, Mikey!” I laughed. “I’m just glad you’re able to get a few days off to come see me! I can’t wait for you to meet my roommates, their really rad. Oh man, this guy, Bob? He is going to crack you up! And Ray? I can see you two really hitting it off. He’s a good guy.”

“Ma’s making lasagna, she’s asking if you ate,” Mikey said, as our mother’s voice crackled in the background. “She said she’ll make enough for your roommates too. She thinks you’ve gotten too skinny.”

“How would she even know that, I haven’t seen her since I left,” I rolled my eyes at my mother’s worry.

“Hey, Gee, don’t shoot the messenger,” Mikey laughed. “Okay, I’ll head out once the food is done. I should probably be there around one or two in the morning, is that okay?”

“Sounds good,” I smiled. “S’later.”

I hung up the phone and could feel my energy bouncing around my whole body. I could barely sit still. I was so excited for my little brother to come out to spend the weekend with me. He was really the only thing I missed about my hometown. He was my best friend, the Robin to my Batman. Life without Mikey just didn't have enough geeky fan theories about the latest issues of our favorite comics, and without my little brother, horror movies just weren’t as fun.

I glanced around my room and realized I forgot to tell Mikey to grab a sleeping bag. I didn’t have anywhere for him to sleep once he got here. I frowned and decided to go poke around downstairs to see if there were any spare blankets.

Ray and Bob were out, already down at the bar, like any normal Friday night. Usually, I would have joined them after my shift at the grocery store, but I knew Mikey was coming in this weekend so I wanted to save the cash that I did have so I could treat him for coming all the way out here.

The house was quiet without Bob practicing drums, or Ray making jokes. The house was dark too.

The nights had been setting in sooner as winter approached. No one had turned on any of the lights in the house.

Once I finally gave up on my quest to find spare blankets, I decided to make my way to the kitchen to make sure there were clean dishes for the food Ma was sending here. I usually wasn’t one for doing dishes. Honestly, I didn’t care less, I would always improvise until someone else washed them. But since it was Mikey’s first time visiting, I figured now was the time to make my best effort in cleaning them.

“Whoa, Gerard doing dishes!” I jumped at the unexpected voice.

“F-fuck!” I gasped as the plate I had grabbed slipped out of my hand. I spun around to see Frank’s amused face as he leaned against the counter top across the room from where I stood. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he laughed. “I don’t think in the whole time we’ve lived here I’ve ever seen you pick up something to clean it!”

“I’m expecting someone,” I snarled. “What are you even doing sitting in the dark?”

“Didn’t feel like turning on the light.” he shrugged. “Oooh you’re expecting someone? You gotta girlfriend? Is that why you’re always slinking around the house at weird hours?”

“No!” I rolled my eyes. “My little brother is coming here. And why do you even notice what hour I walk around the house?”

“Whoa!” He thrust his hands up. “Didn’t mean to pick a fight, I was just joking.”

I glared at him one more time before turning back to the pile of dishes. I still didn't understand why this kid got under my nerves some much.

“So you’ve got a brother?” Frank sidled up next to me, trying to continue the conversation. “Is he like you? Or are you guys the opposite? He's the older one right?”

“Why would you assume that?” I snorted.

“I dunno,” Frank shrugged. “Just seems like you’d be the little brother, ya know?” Frank paused and then grabbed the plate that I finished rinsing out of my hand. “Here, you wash, I’ll dry.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because we’re roommates,” the short man shrugged. “Anyway, you seem to hate me for some reason and I want to prove I’m really not that bad of a guy.” His big, round eyes twinkled as he smiled at me. I felt my face soften slightly.

“I don’t hate you,” I mumbled.

“You could of fooled me!” Frank laughed loudly, giving my shoulder a slight push. “Really, dude! What did I do to bring out the wrath?”

I didn’t really have an answer, so I just didn’t respond. I silently hoped he wouldn’t notice my face start to flush with red.

“Is it because I got to see you naked?”

“What?!” I gasped. My face burned and I lost grasp of the bowl in my hands. It clattered to the bottom of the sink with a loud crash.

“I mean, I can always return the favor,” Frank’s lips curled up into a mischievous smile and his hands traveled down to the zipper of his pants. My heart beat increased, my palms started to sweat.

 _What is with this guy?_ I thought frantically.

“Give you a show, right?” Frank laughed as he wiggled his hips.

“Stop!” I yelled out, a bit louder than I meant. “Y-you don’t have to-”

“Dude!” Frank was nearly doubled over with laughter. “I was just kidding!”

My heart beat started to slow, but my face was still burning a bright red.

“But really," he continued between hiccups of laughter. "I am sorry about that! I promise I’m not some creep who lies in wait to see strangers in the nude!”

“Oh,” I coughed. “Uh, thanks.”

“Geez, you should of seen your face though!” Frank giggled. “You’re a little uptight!”

“I’m not!” I shook my head, Frank’s infectious laughter starting to get to me. “I just didn’t need my little brother coming to see me with some naked guy!”

“Yeah, okay,” Frank smiled. “That’s fair. Guess that might be a little shocking…So you said little brother? That means you’re the older one?”

“Huh?” I turned to Frank, his eyes were wide with curiosity. He was much smarter than I had given him credit for. “Yeah. I’m older.”

“Well, look at that!” he exclaimed. “I learned so much about the mysterious Gerard in just one conversation!”

“Pshhh,” I snorted.

“You know you might not be that bad of a guy,” Frank said casually.

“As apposed to the asshole you thought I was?” I retorted back, only slightly offended.

“Just joking,” Frank nudged me. “But I gotta go, I’ll leave the rest of these to you.” He nodded towards the only slightly smaller pile of dishes. “Can’t wait to meet the little brother!” Frank yelled as he exited the room.

I turned back to the dishes, slowly realizing the knot in my stomach that was usually present when I even thought about Frank was gone.

I guess I had never had a real conversation with the guy until that day. Maybe my hatred of him was more based in embarrassment. I wasn’t exactly used to strangers seeing me naked…really I wasn’t used to _anyone_ seeing me naked. It was embarrassing. But I guess not a great reason to hate someone.

I felt a wash of relief. Without needing to avoid Frank, my weekend with Mikey was looking a lot brighter.

 

Once I finished the dishes, I realized I was still in need of a sleeping bag for Mikey.

I spent another hour or so searching the house for something to use, but still, my search came up empty.

I finally sighed to myself and decided it was time to just go buy one. I glanced at the clock on the microwave before I left out the back door of the house, it was just about midnight. I needed to hurry so I would be back in time to meet Mikey.

The closest superstore was a town over.

I figured it was my best bet, and since it was twenty-four hours, it was likely the only store open that would carry something like a sleeping bag in a fifty mile radius. The drive was fine, not too many cars out tonight.

A lot of people around left for the city on the weekends, that’s where the action was at. If it wasn't so expensive I’d probably do the same, maybe I could meet other artists. But with a minimum wage job I found myself only able to afford my room and grabbing drinks at the local bar with Bob and Ray.

But at least with most people gone for the city I would be able to get to the super store within twenty minutes and slip in and out and be back before Mikey could find the house.

The moment I stepped into the store I realized how wrong I was.

The flickering lights overhead made every long isle look more ominous than the last.

I didn’t even know how long I spent in the store, shuffling up and down isles just to find a stupid sleeping bag.

By the time I finally found one, I felt exhausted.

I quickly grabbed it up and made my way to the front. I bought the bag in an uneventful interaction with a guy who was far too high to be the only cashier.

The drive home seemed longer than I remembered and my eyes started to feel heavy. I looked at the clock on the dashboard and it was nearly two in the morning. I frowned, hoping if Mikey did make it to my house that someone would have let him in. _I should have written a note,_ I chided myself.

I pulled up the house and glanced around.

Mikey’s car wasn’t in sight, I had beaten him home.

I shuffled up to the house, feeling more and more exhausted with each step.

I decided to go to my room to set up Mikey’s sleeping bag. I could hear the rest of my roommates in the living room when I entered the house, but instead of greeting them, I pulled myself up the stairs. I needed to focus on one task at a time.

Once I got into my room, my body felt too heavy to carry any longer. I decided to lay down for a minute to regain my strength. _I just need a second,_ I told myself. _Then I’ll get up and go downstairs to let everyone know that Mikey should be here soon._

I never got back up. The room faded to black the moment I hit the bed. I was out for the night.


	3. The Mikey Effect

I awoke to the bright light of day.

I blinked as I attempted to piece together why I felt so off. I was in my room. I was in my own bed. I was alone.

Nothing seemed out of place.

I shrugged off my confusion, told myself it must be some feeling left over from a dream.

I slunk downstairs heading towards the kitchen. Without a coffee or two in my system, I was basically a useless body. No thoughts.

I turned the corner into the kitchen to find a startling sight.

There at the old wooden table sat Ray facing me. He was in the middle of laughing so hard his eyes were squeezed shut, tears fighting their way out of from the corners.

Across from Ray was Frank precariously crouched on one of the mismatched chairs. He too was cackling with amusement, his full attention on a third man sitting next to him.

I blinked at the third man, the one who’s back was turned to me. There was something so eerily familiar about him. His hair, the slope of his shoulders. Why did this feel so familiar and yet so out of place?

“Mikey!” I found myself shouting with realization.

The whole table turned to look at me. The third man looked up at me and immediately broke into a grin.

“Gerard!” He greeted me. “Good to see you didn’t die in your sleep!”

I furrowed my eyebrows and then last night hit me like a car into the side of an unsuspecting deer.

I had tried so hard to make sure everything was perfect for Mikey’s arrival, but upon returning home I passed out just as fast as I had entered my room to set up a sleeping bag for Mikey.

“You could have fooled us though,” Frank laughed along. “I tried to wake you up last night and you didn’t even flinch! I seriously thought you were dead, but Mikey said that’s just how you sleep.”

My body tensed. Frank had spent the night with my brother.

They had their own jokes now.

I felt my stomach turn and jealously poured over my body. _Why would Mikey tell him that?_ I thought, turning my frustration to my brother. _Why would he share something so personal about me with a STRANGER?_

“When did you get here?” I asked Mikey, ignoring Frank and Ray’s smiles flatten from my tone.

“Around one, I think,” Mikey adjusted his glasses as he thought. “You weren’t here so we went out to grab some drinks.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” I frowned, feeling like I had been left out.

“We did,” Frank replied. “But it went straight to voicemail, so we figured your phone was dead.”

My eyes turn from my brother to Frank, who almost unnoticeably flinched at my gaze. My anger must have been visible.

“Let’s go get breakfast,” I turned back to Mikey. “Just us.” I make sure to specify.

Mikey glances at his new friends and shrugs in his leisurely way. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Let’s get some food!”

Mikey stood up and follow me out of the room, neither of us turning back to see the reactions of the two men left sitting at the table.

 

“Okay, what the fuck was that?” Mikey finally blurted out as his shoveled hash browns into his mouth.

“What the fuck was what?” I retort, finishing my own point with a long sip of coffee.

The diner we were in was sparsely occupied. A few old men sat at the bar, minding their own business, eating their greasy meals. A waitress leans by the kitchen door, her attention focused on the news playing on the old static-y TV mounted in the corner.

“You know exactly what I was talking about,” Mikey rolled his eyes. “You were being such a dick to your roommates. You acted like Frank was telling you his kidnapped me and threw me into the wine cellar and left me to die.”

I can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Dude. Just because he’s my roommate doesn’t me he’s, like, a good person!” I tried to explain. “He could of like, robbed you or something! I don’t know!”

“That seems like an overreaction, Gee,” Mikey snorted. “He’s like 5 feet tall, obviously I would have been fine.”

I perk my eyebrow up as I look over my brother’s skinny, slumped over posture. He barely looks like could lift a child, let alone fight off a grown man. Small or not.

“Whatever,” I shook my head. “I still don’t trust him. You shouldn’t either!”

“Is it because he saw your junk?” Mikey laughed, his eyes sparkling in wait for my reaction.

“He told you that?” I replied a little too loudly. The waitress takes her eyes off the TV and peers over to us. I quickly averted my gaze back to my brother and lean in closer, dropping my voice. “What kind of freak goes around telling random people that he stalks his roommates and waits for them to get naked. That’s weird!”

“That is _not_ what happened,” Mikey called me out.

“Okay, fine,” I gave in. “It’s not _exactly_ what happened. But still. That guy's an asshole.”

“He seemed kind of cool to me,” Mikey told me with a sense of ownership. “You should really try to let people in, Gerard. Mom’s afraid that you’re gonna be some crazy mountain hermit if you don’t.” I rolled my eyes. “I told her that wouldn’t happen. Obviously, you’re a basement troll through and through.”

“Well gee, thanks,” I snorted, a smile playing at the edge of my lips. “Well, I don’t hate all my roommates. Bob and Ray are pretty cool.”

“Yeah, Ray mentioned he got you to draw him a superhero,” Mikey perked up. “You made his power static electricity?”

“How could I not?” I laughed. “Have you _seen_ that hair?”

This sends Mikey into peels of laughter and I felt myself relax. I had missed my brother, how he called me on my bullshit, how he just _got_ me. I didn’t realize how much I had been lacking that.

“Maybe I do need to let people in,” I quietly agreed, speaking low enough that Mikey doesn’t hear.

 

 

Back at home, I find a white flag in the form of a stack of horror movies sitting on the coffee table. Frank’s eyes looked up at me expectantly when I entered the room.

“You guys wanna watch?” He asked, eyes flicking to the movies then back to us.

Mikey glanced at me, waiting for my answer. “Sure,” I announced. “Any good ones?”

 

The weekend was spent mostly holed up in the living room alongside Mikey, Frank, Ray and, occasionally, Bob.

Frank had reviled his collection of thrifted VHS movies. A whole library of odd B-movies from all over the world. The best was the gore-filled Japanese movies, with their oddly worded subtitles and graphic fight scenes.

I couldn’t help but be impressed as Frank exactly quoted scenes in a dramatic character voice, fumbling over difficult Japanese words. I asked if he knew what he was saying and he told me, “That’s why there are subtitles!”

I’ll admit it. I laughed, probably harder than I meant to. Frank shithead grin broke through some part of me, and I found myself not minding his company that weekend.

Maybe if I’m honest, I’d say I kind of enjoyed it.


	4. Draw Me Like A French Girl

The weekend passed too quickly and we all had to say our goodbyes to Mikey. It was sad to see him go, he seemed to fit into our house dynamics with no struggle.  
I sent him home with a hug and looking worse for the wear from when arrived. Mom would surely phone me asking if we were eating, if we drank too much; if I introduced him to drugs.  
It’s okay though. That’s what moms do. And she knew if anything, Mikey was always the more responsible of the two of us. If anything he was keeping me out of trouble this weekend.  
Hell, it was Mikey who made actual peace happen between all my roommate and me.

With Mikey gone I thought everything would go back to the way it was before.   
I would go back to hating Frank, Ray would go back to being house mom, and Bob would go back to… well, he didn’t seem any different when Mikey was here. I guess Bob was just Bob.  
It seemed that Mikey’s quick visit had sent a sense of security over the friction in the house. Somehow he drew the four of us together. Even between Frank and me…though if I was honest with myself I’d admit that was the only friction that really existed in the house before Mikey.  
But spending time seeing how Frank interacted with Mikey, the only person who’s opinion I ever seemed to actually regard, I found myself soften towards Frank. He really wasn’t too bad.  
Between the video games and horror movies, it seemed like I had started to develop an unlikely friendship with Frank.

The night after Mikey left I came back home after work with a heavy feeling in my chest. It felt as if reality would return any moment and I would go back to being the weirdo, the outcast.   
But despite my worries, when I return from work that evening, I was greeted by all three of my roommates gathered in the living room playing video games. A fourth controller set on the coffee table waiting for me.  
I dropped my belongings at the foot of the staircase and made my way into the living room, glancing around to make sure there was no mistake that the empty seat next to Frank was for me.  
"We're playing teams," Ray explained as I picked up my controller. "I already called Bob for my team because he's ruthless!" Bob nodded with a smirk.  
"Don't worry, Gee," Frank bumped my shoulder. "We got this! We'll crush these nerds!"  
I smiled at my roommates, gleefully awaiting the start of the game. The bad feeling I had before entered the house quickly dissipated.  
It felt like even though Mikey went back to Belleville, I finally had a place here. It was like I finally figured out where I fit into this home.

 

“So you drew these?” Frank’s eyes sparkle up at me as he flipped through the tattered sketchbook I hand to him.  
“Yeah,” I blushed.   
The moment he asked to see my artwork I knew I would regret it. But I did it anyway. I have to open up to people, I remind myself.   
I pulled out my most recent sketchbook, the one filled with drawings of the house and the guys. I thought Frank would like seeing how I saw the world. The moment the sketchbook left my head and entered his I felt a cold sweat drip down my back.  
Why did I do this to myself? I chided myself.  
“Dude! That’s Ray!” Frank announces loudly, like a child with a picture book. “Whoa he totally would have electric powers! I can’t believe I never thought of that until now!”  
I can’t tell if he’s flattering me or if he really meant it.  
“Wait,” he said after a few more pages have been flipped through. “Where am I?” He flicks his eyes up from the page and peers into mine.  
“What?” I responded.  
“Where am I?” He repeated. “Everyone else is in here…hell, you even drew the couch! Where am I? Where're the drawings of me?”  
I blink a few times at Frank’s expectant hazel eyes. I felt the blush spread across my face.  
“I guess I never thought to draw you,” I lied.   
The truth is I had thought to draw Frank. Sometimes when he would sit and jam with Bob and I would stay on the couch sketching, I would see moments of Frank I wished to capture on the page. The power he emitted when in the midst of a song was pure joy and I wished I knew how to make that happen on the page.  
But anytime I put pencil to paper I would freeze. I couldn’t bring myself to draw him.   
It was like I had spent so long being determined to dislike him, it felt like drawing him was admitting defeat.   
I didn’t even mind him anymore. In fact, I kind of enjoyed him. A lot, actually. Maybe even more than Ray. Maybe even more than Bob.  
There was something about Frank that felt easy. He didn’t mind being the one to provide the energy in social situations. He teased me about my odd behaviors but would stop the moment he noticed my face twitch or change. He was always down to watch a horror movie and he shared his favorite comics and games with me.  
We were more similar than I thought possible. Maybe it was because we were both passionate people. I could draw for hours and not notice the time pass, he was the same with music.   
He was so sure that one day he would make it big doing what he loved, and from that I couldn’t help but be inspired. I wanted that to be true for me as well. It was like he was starting to make me believe it was possible.  
“If you never thought to draw me, why not do it now?” Frank blew past my lie, striking the competitive side of me. I couldn’t say no now. It was like a challenge. If I said no I would be admitting failure.  
Shit.  
“Okay,” I tried to shrug, making it seem as this request was no big deal. I grabbed the sketchbook back from him and open to an empty page.  
“How do you want me?” Frank called out in a fake seductive voice. “Will you draw me like one of your French girls?” He continued, his voice becoming more obnoxiously shrill.  
“Shut up,” I laughed at him, tossing a comic book off of my desk and towards his chest.  
It lands next to him, barely grazed his shoulder. But the dramatic effect of it work. Frank sobered from his laughter and look directly at me.  
“Do I just stare at you?” He blinked his large round eyes and I felt myself fidget in my chair.  
I couldn’t draw him if he kept staring at me. It was weird. It was too much pressure. I didn’t know what to do when he looked at me for too long.  
Frank was one of those eye contact people. It always felt too odd and too intimate. It always felt like he looked at me for too long. It made me feel naked.  
“No, just read that comic I threw at you,” I solved the problem with a quick gesture to the comic next to him.  
Frank complied and opened the comic book, turning his attention away from me. I sat in my child-sized desk chair, sketchbook on lap and worked feverishly trying to get Frank down on paper.  
It must have been late afternoon at that point. The light poured into the room, illuminating the side of Frank’s face, making his eyes twinkle. I studied his features as he read.   
The corners of his mouth turned up when he read over something amazing. His eyebrows tweaked upwards at the surprising bits. When he got to longer parts of the text I would watch him, very subtly, chew at the skin on his pink lips.  
It felt surreal watching him in the setting light like that. His back pressed again the wall, his legs folded over one another, bare knees poking out from his tattered jeans. The sunlight made the dust in the room sparkle. The whole scene felt like I was a voyeur peeking into his world.  
As I drew there was an odd feeling edging at me. I felt like I couldn’t watch Frank for too long. I shouldn’t stare or study him, or something bad would happen.  
It was an odd feeling I had never had before. It made me nervous, which in turn made my lines of the drawing shake and wobble. I pressed the tip of the pencil down on the paper harder, attempting to sturdy it.  
After getting down Frank’s basic character down on the paper I found myself involved in hammering out every detail. I looked at Frank less and took more liberties to how I saw him.   
I didn’t know how much time had past before I glanced up and found Frank peering back at me. His face was a mix of curiosity and tranquility.   
I immediately dropped my pencil, too aware of being watched while drawing, and saw Frank’s mouth turn down.  
“You didn’t have to stop,” he explained.  
“Oh, no, I’m done!” I lied. I glanced down at the sketch and realized it was basically done. Detailed and shaded. How did I not know I was done? I felt like I could have kept drawing forever.  
“Can I see?” Frank jumped back from his tranquil state to his usual state of animated being.  
“Sure,” I blushed, wishing that he hadn’t wanted to see. “Here.”  
Rather than Frank taking the sketchbook out of my hand, he carried himself to stand behind me and peered over my shoulder. He leaned down to get a better view.  
“Wow,” he breathed, his chin brushing by the top of my head. I couldn’t help but stiffen up. “That’s really me… that’s totally me!”  
He reached his hand down, parallel with my own arm. His fingertips brushed against the graphite and lightly traced where I painstakingly drilled out the details of his tattoos. “It’s so detailed,” his voice was dropped.  
I felt like my body was on high alert. I wasn’t used to anyone being this close to me. And yet here this man was nearly draped around me.  
I could feel the heat from his chest pressed against my shoulder. He rested one hand on the back of my chair and his knuckles lightly, carelessly, pressed into my back. His arm bumped against mine as he breathed in and out. I could see the details of every pore on his face if I just looked from the corner of my eye.  
It felt like this proximity was too much. Too close. Too intimate.  
I quickly pushed myself out of the chair, pushing him lightly away from me in one fell swoop. “That was a fun challenge,” I announced in a voice louder than I had intended. “Great practice!”  
I hid my discomfort in a mask of excitement and energy.  
“Thanks for drawing me, man,” Frank smiled, raising his energy to match mine. “I’m starving, you wanna see if we can get Ray to buy us food? He owes me one!”  
“Sure,” I force a grin back. “Just gotta pee first.”   
Frank nods and takes his exit, loudly clattering down the stairs calling out for Ray. I quickly escape into the solitude of the bathroom.  
I walk over to the sink and wash off the graphite that stained my hand whilst drawing. I let the water wash over my skin and breathe in deep before I face forward and meet my own eyes in the mirror.  
“Why are you so fucking weird?” I quietly scold myself, shaking off any residual nervous energy.   
My stomach growled and I relaxed. I must have just been hungry, I assured myself.


	5. Simple Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being gone so long, babes! I'm still continuing writing, hopefully on a more regular schedule now. BTW I would love it if you commented your thoughts, I'm craving feedback!

“Does corn syrup count as vegetable content?” Frank asked, his mouth filled with neon-colored candy. “I mean, corn is a vegetable after all. Its byproduct would still count, right?”  
I pause midway from placing a box of cereal on the shelf before me to turn to face Frank. “I’m going to guess no,” I laughed. “Not even slightly.”  
Frank furrows his brow at the bag of gummy worms in his hands, eyes focused on the list of ingredients as he continues to chew. “Hmm,” he choked out, admitting defeat with a single shrug. “Guess I can’t really call this dinner then.”  
I chuckled quietly as I turned back to the task at hand; the foreboding rows of nearly empty shelves I was supposed to keep stocked, with boxes and bag and cans all lined up perfectly in their happy little packages.

Night shift at a grocery store was a drag. I would spend hours and hours filling up the shelves under the flicker fluorescent lights, only to come back the next day to do the same. It was an endless task that worn on every night.   
Somehow, I didn’t dread coming to work though. Not lately, at least. For whatever reason Frank had brought it upon himself to keep me company during my hours of work. 

He had started coming in at the beginning of my shift by accident, perhaps. He was one of those people who never really seemed to have a real job but instead did odd jobs here and there to make up for it.   
On one of his more regularly scheduled odd jobs, he showed up to the grocery store accompanied by an old lady who looked more like a raisin than a person. The shriveled old woman barked out orders at him as he dutifully pushed a growing cart of the woman’s groceries. 

“I think she pays me to have someone to order around more than anything,” Frank explained. “But she reminds me of my grandma, so I can’t complain. And it’s not like I’m doing anything hard. Just picking up things and carrying them for her. Not too bad of a gig.”

On a particularly slow night, while I was immersed in lining up cans of soup in perfectly symmetrical lines, I felt someone come up behind me and poke at my sides.  
A loud, shrill gasp came falling out of my mouth and I jumped around to face the culprit, not haven’t a clue I would be met with Frank’s sparkling eyes and big grin.  
“I didn’t know you worked here!” Frank announced excitedly. “I always wondered where you went off to a night. At first, I thought maybe you had a girlfriend or something, but then I realized it was probably more likely that you were a vampire, so I just kind of stuck with that.”  
“Really?” I cracked a smile. “Because that’s obviously more likely than... I don’t know…HAVING A JOB?”  
Frank shrugged, smile still plastered across his face.   
We had chatted for a few more minutes before he was beckoned back to the register by the old woman. I returned back to my job and didn’t think much else of it. By the time I had gotten home that night, Frank’s door was shut and the lights were off. He was asleep and I had no real reason to wake him.

But the next day he came back. Slightly later and without the old woman, Frank had returned to the grocery with only the intention to keep me company while I worked.  
That night he followed me around like a lost puppy. Each isle I stocked, he followed, making conversation about anything that came to mind.  
It seemed like that shift was the quickest one, likely due to Frank’s company.  
We drove home together that night. Frank slide into the passenger seat as if it was a normal habit for us. He kicked the trash piling up on the floor, making himself comfortable.  
It was hard to concentrate on the road, my eyes kept darting to Frank next to me, as he spoke and shifted in his seat.   
The radio in my car was blown out, the speakers on worked on the right side. As Frank listened to the music, I could hear him humming along.  
There was something so peaceful about driving home on the dark, carless roads, with Frank humming along with the late-night tunes.


End file.
